The Event That Has Changed My Life

This past weekend, I participated in one of the most moving events of my life. The Out of Darkness Overnight Walk is an annual event, traditionally held in just one city in the U.S. every year (this year it was fortunately held in two, Philadelphia and Seattle). It's a walk I've wanted to do for several years, and with it in my backyard, I had no excuse. Oh I could have made excuses - it's a long walk and I have some reoccurring injuries; will I be able to raise $1000 for a cause that people are leery to even acknowledge let alone pledge?; I go to bed at 10 PM, how will I stay up late enough to walk that many miles? But I didn't allow myself excuses.

If you're not familiar with the Out of Darkness walk, though if you follow my Facebook page I'm not sure how this is possible, it's a 16-18 mile walk to bring awareness and funds to suicide prevention, hosted by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, or AFSP. The obvious point of holding the event from dusk to dawn is to point out that no matter how dark it may seem, there is hope. (I feel like this explanation might not have been needed, but I also feel that you can never point out too often for those who are experience deep depression and suicidal feelings that there is hope).

Walkers and their supporters before the opening ceremonies. 

I have done charity walks before, and I know the sense of accomplishment felt at being able to raise the money and complete the mileage, along with the adrenaline that occurs during the actual walking/activity. But this event touched me in ways that I never expected. It started when we got to choose which honor beads we would wear for the night. There were different colors which indicated your reason for participation. They ranged from "support the cause" to having lost different people in your life to suicide - different colors for family/friend, parent, and child - to military or first responder, to personal struggle. As I chose my honor beads, I took careful consideration. Of course I chose blue, for support the cause. I then chose purple, as I've lost a second cousin to suicide. Finally, I picked green for "personal struggle". You see, I write this blog, I post all over facebook and twitter, and I run and support events and organizations, but choosing those green beads was akin to walking around with a t-shirt that says "I struggle with mental health". It's not that I'm ashamed or even worried what people will think. It's simply the first time I've physically worn something out in public that indicates my condition, and for some reason, it felt like a big step to take.  I wasn't alone. I'd say at least a quarter of people walking, and that's an eyeball estimate that might be rather low, were wearing them with me. And nobody looked at us funny or edged away or made an ignorant comment. In fact, before the event (I'd gotten there quite early to register) I went with my family to a nearby restaurant, and when others from the event walked in wearing their own beads and walk shirts, we just nodded at each other and smiled. A silent "I get it. You too."

Me, pre-walk, with my three colors of honor beads

As I listened to the opening remarks, speakers discussing their loved ones lost to suicide, I watched the faces around me. You could see the acknowledgement in their head nods, the tears forming in their eyes. At one point, one person with each color of honor beads step forward on stage, with the speaker explaining why that specific person was walking. The second to last person stepped forward wearing green beads for "personal struggle". The speaker described how she'd spent most of her life feeling like she just didn't belong in the world and just didn't fit in anywhere, but there, that night, she finally felt like she wasn't alone. I lost it. I let the tears fall freely, feeling absolutely no shame, especially as I looked around and saw others doing the same. If you have read my blog before, you know how I've never been close to cool and always kind of jumped around life, randomly maybe fitting in here or there, but always always feeling like something in life was just off, like I just didn't belong. But finally, finally, I realized that there, I too, fit in. I was not alone. Not even close to alone. The people there that night understood how it felt, a feeling that is impossible to fully describe, that you don't really know until you experience it. Trust me, it's not a "group" that I wish my friends and loved ones to be part of. I'm glad most of them don't know what it feels like. But the knowledge that you're surrounded by people that do was something I've never experienced in person. While I'm terribly saddened that each and everyone one of those people do know what it feels like, I finally felt like I belonged. The nods and tears of my fellow walkers told me that they felt the same.

Those called to stage to represent the different honor beads

As we walked, a few of us - most walking by ourselves - formed our own unofficial team. We openly asked each other, and just as openly explained, why we were walking. There was no taboo. There was no "what will they think of me?". Despite the fact that everyone had a slightly different reason, we all had this one, hugely personal, thing in common - depression or suicide had somehow affected us all deeply. I have to say, that's a much deeper connection than I suspect you can get in one book club meeting or one sports practice, and yet we had this as the result of one walk.

You learn a lot doing an event like this. You learn who supports your cause, through monetary donation or moral support. You learn how much physical and emotional strength you have to push through the walk. You learn how much water you can drink without having to use a port-o-potty, and that if you've walked long enough without eating, generic snack products actually become appetizing. You learn you can indeed stay up past your usual bedtime, and easily, if the reason is right... though I do have to say I'm glad and proud to have finished by midnight. But most of all, you learn that no matter how much it hurts at times, no matter how isolated you may have felt, no matter how dark things get, there is hope and you are not alone.

Luminaries lit for lost loved ones, waiting for us at the end of the walk. 

To learn more about Out of Darkness Walks, including the Overnight Walk, and three to five mile Community and Campus Walks, click here. If you are interested in getting involved with AFSP, check out their opportunities, including finding your local chapter, here. 

A Father's Day Quiz

For Father's Day, my dad did a quiz about his father, which was part reminiscent from things I'd known, and part a bit of new trivia. So I thought, in turn, I'd do a quiz about my father. In the days of Facebook, when even those who don't see him weekly as I do can be updated on family happenings, this quiz is probably a bit easier than that about my grandfather who passed away fourteen years ago, and grew up in the first have of the previous century. Still, though, I thought it would fun - mostly to share some fun facts/funny stories, but also to reminisce as well. So here we go:

1. Dad was involved in the march on Washington and other protests during the Vietnam war. However, he nothing to worry about when it came to personally being drafted - he'd never have been "approved" because he's allergic to penicillin.

2. Dad was the first person in his family to graduate from college. He originally wanted to be a veterinarian but his studies led him elsewhere.

3. When we were young, one of our favorite games created by dad was to put the kitchen wok in the middle of the floor on a bed sheet, pop popcorn in it, and run after the popcorn as it flew out of the open wok.

4. Dad has held all of the following jobs during his life: paper boy, bus driver, pizza delivery man, shoe salesman.

5. When we were young, dad used to create scavenger hunts for us around the house and yard, with little prizes at the end.

6. Dad's parents were originally from North Dakota and North Carolina.

7. Dad is the only one in our immediate family (parents and siblings) that is left handed.

8. Dad has lost his camera on at least three continents.

9.  Dad used to be a picky eater, but he's now gotten quite adventurous.

10.  While dad has adjusted to the way we speak on the East Coast, he still says pin and pen the same way, as he learned growing up.




Answers:
1. False: He wouldn't have been drafted, but it's because he's allergic to bee stings. It's Eli and I who are allergic to Penicillin.

2. True: He ended up as an educator in numerous facets.

3. False: While we played this game, surprisingly dad was not the one that created it.

4. False: Have you ever seen dad's shoes? He did hold the rest of the jobs, however.

5. True: This was one of my favorite activities as a kid.

6. False: His mom was from North Dakota, but his dad was from Virginia.

7. True: Though I believe at least one of his grandchildren inherited the left-handedness.

8. False: Believe it or not, I can only think of two continents on which he's lost his camera on - North America (numerous places) and South America (Argentina).

9. False: I honestly can't name a food dad doesn't like, and I don't think they were allowed to be picky eaters growing up with seven kids in the family.

10. True: While I've never heard it particularly, he says he can't distinguish between the two.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Four years ago, I moved into the city - Philadelphia, for those who aren't familiar with my location - on a personal quest: to figure out life, establish my independence, and re-find myself. I know, it sounds cheesy. But as a person who's life often feels a bit like an adult version of pin the tail on the donkey - feeling about randomly trying to find where you're going, only to realize you're completely turned around and you've actually directed yourself all the way to the opposite side of the house - it's one hundred percent true. Three years prior, I'd gone through a divorce, and more recently I'd suffered a rather significant personal crisis that I needed to at least attempt to shed. (I've chosen not to disclose the crisis, as the exact details don't seem necessary for the point of this blog, and it's one of the few things about myself I don't discuss publicly. Let's just say it was a humdinger that put me at a low I'd never experienced before).

In Philly, I started over. I became a regular at local restaurants, coffee shops, and stores. People recognized me and my dog walking down the street, and I recognized them. I made friends, I got involved in my coworking community, I became more or less a fixture in the leadership of several professional organizations. I started to grow into my element, and for the first time in years, feel not only independent, but happy in that independence.

Let me be clear, it wasn't all roses. In fact, I went through some terrible times in that apartment. Those walls, floors, bed, shower saw more tears than I can count. Heartbreaks both personal and professional happened over those years. People who faded from my life, or I from theirs. Positions I felt I deserved that were given to others for reasons that to this day still hurt a bit. There were a lot, and I mean a lot, of difficult times there. But I persevered and I continued to strive towards my goals. One foot in front of the other, as my grandmother always said.

This past year, I decided to make some major changes in my life. After years, I stepped down from my leadership positions, feeling that I'd done what I could do, and it was time for others to have their chance. I started to shift much more of my focus to mental health awareness and advocacy, with the goal of eventually establishing a successful non-profit. I took a part time job at a conference center, and for the first time in eight years, I have to get up and dressed and start working by a time set by someone other than myself. It's a major change, but I have to say, I love having the structure for at least part of my work week. Most notably, I have become part of a new family through my current relationship. In April, I signed a lease on a house in Cherry Hill, and I gave my 60-day notice at my Philadelphia apartment.

Yesterday, my dad and I finished cleaning out the apartment, removing (or trashing) the few remaining items that were still in there. As I stood in the empty rooms, I experienced what felt like a bit of time travel. Random images of the last four years, flashes of occasions that happened in those very rooms, or just outside in the surrounding neighborhood. I thought about all of the laughs that had echoed in there, and the tears that had been shed; the way too numerous to count solo song and dance concerts that I performed while listening to iTunes and cooking dinner; the first time I'd attempted to get Cinn (my dog) to go up the elevator, and how far she'd come in conquering that fear over the four years. I felt that "feel" that only my apartment had, even cleared of my things. Like an old, familiar friend, always there for me to come back to. I checked my mail one last time, in case forwarding mail wasn't quite as accurate as it claimed. And then, with one last sigh of nostalgia, I closed the door on that one bedroom apartment that had gotten me through so much, looking at the sign that I'd taped to the door informing people that there was a dog in there and to make sure she got out in case of fire or emergency. It felt wrong somehow to take it down, that last remnant of my and Cinn's adventure there, so I left it.

As my dad hugged me goodbye and I made a joke about it being the last time he had to worry about finding a parking spot to come visit me, a famous literary line popped into my head: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times". Dramatic, I know, but I think it sums things up nicely. Overall, I'll remember the good, with a quiet respect for the tough times that became learning experience. Over those four years, I do think that I established my independence rather well, and I have a bit better idea of myself. I never did figure out life. Maybe someday. 

Excuses, Excuses

One of the pieces of inspiration that's most stuck with me is something I read in the book The Artist's Way. The author, Julia Cameron, was discussing excuses that we make for ourselves. It went something like this:

Question (Excuse): Do you know how old will I be by the time I learn to play the piano (insert desired skill/task/project here). 

Answer: The same age you will be if you don't. 

The point? It's very easy to make excuses - no funds, no time, no resources, too old, too young, and the list goes on. These excuses, as they pile up, can also make the goals we're attempting to reach overwhelming. Often, we don't intentionally use excuses to stop progress. They are based on legitimate obstacles. How do I fund this new project? Who will help me (since I don't have the funding to pay people)? Where will I find the time? As they build up, they become seemingly insurmountable. After all, it can be rather tough to work on something when you have no time, money, or resources.

In addition, there are what I call the emotional excuses. I'll never be successful. I'm not good at stuff like this. I can't do this on my own. I'm not strong/smart/savvy enough to pull this off. I call these emotional because they play on our confidence and self esteem. They piggy back on our self doubts, or the criticisms of others. And while you certainly do need to think about your strengths, and the fact that you may eventually need to call on others to work with you, this doesn't mean that you'll never succeed, that you can't do it, that you're no good, that you shouldn't start at all. Yet this is often what we tell ourselves. 

I am absolutely guilty of both types of excuses. The trouble is, all too often, I don't recognize them for what they are - things I'm telling myself because I'm afraid to move forward. I'm afraid I'll fail. I'm afraid I'll make a fool of myself. I'm afraid I'll prove the naysayers right. Often, these fears are subconscious. There are perfectly convincing arguments for not starting something until you have the time, money, resources. The problem with this is, you could be waiting forever. It's unlikely that you'll fall into so much money that you can stop whatever you're doing and start your project from scratch without any affects on your finances. It's equally as unlikely that you'll suddenly have more hours in the day, or that all of the right people will stop what they're doing and volunteer to come help with your project, whatever you need. And so, we have to start somewhere. It may be putting out a couple of dollars to get things started. It may be recruiting friends who are willing to help, and while they might not be next in line for CEO of your project, they are willing to offer up their resources, and willing to do it for free (you hope). 

When the lists of tasks, time, and resources required gets overwhelming, break each aspect of the project into tiny, manageable items. Address one of these items daily, or at least weekly, until you have completed the list. As you go along, you might well find that you now have a project you feel comfortable putting some money into to get started.  Or you might find that you already have some traction, and getting the resources you need to go further isn't as difficult as you thought it would be. Or you might simply have more confidence in yourself, which to me is the best outcome of all. It's this confidence that will help you recognize the excuses for what they are, push pass the fear, and get you on your way. 

So my suggestion is this: make a list of all of your obstacles. Look at them, and call yourself out on your excuses. If you find an obstacle to be "legitimate" (ie you truly are physically unable to perform a task, or it requires legal licensing/certification that you do not possess) make a list of ways that you could work around it. I'm willing to bet, though, that the majority of obstacles will really be ways that you've been talking yourself out of moving forward. Once you recognize the excuses for what they are, things seem much more manageable.  And that's a great place to start! 

April Showers Bring.... Mental Health Awareness Month

May is the month of flowers in bloom, BBQs, and the unofficial start of summer. People throw parties, take vacations, and head down the shore.... excuse me....to the beach.

May is also important for another reason. It's Mental Health Awareness month. While I personally think we should be watching out for the mental health of ourselves and others every month, I am glad to see a month selected to focus on mental health awareness, and I thought I'd take the chance to write specifically about what people can do to honor this.

• Know that people dealing with mental health conditions are all around you, literally. One out of four people will be diagnosed with a mental health condition at some point during their lifetime. If you add in addictive disorders (now officially part of the DSM V), this number is as high as one in three. That means that you're virtually guaranteed to know someone that battles a mental health condition. 

• Educate yourself. List a few negative associations/thoughts you have about mental health. Now challenge yourself to reverse those thoughts. Do some research to learn the facts - you can find information in scientific and psychology-based publications.  While I'll admit that these days it's tough to get an unbiased opinion, stay away from obviously biased media and look more for research.

• Read a couple of mental health blogs (in addition to this one). Hearing what a condition is like from someone that's actually dealing with it every day helps to give a different perspective.

• Stop using words associated with mental health disorders in a non-clinical or negative way. Saying things like "I can't focus, I must have ADD today" or "my boss keeps changing her mind about this project, it's like she's bipolar" only further to spread stigma and create ignorance. Rule of thumb: if you don't personally know what it's  like to suffer from the condition, don't describe someone's actions as such. If you're not sure if it's inappropriate, replace the name of the mental illness with "cancer" or "heart condition"and see if it sounds insensitive. 

• If you know someone who has a mental health condition, reach out to them. It can be to offer help or support during a tough time, to ask them if they'd mind giving you a better understanding of their condition, or to ask how you can help spread awareness. 

• Contact a mental health awareness organization, such as NAMI or MHA, to see how you can get involved in a local chapter. Perhaps it's participating in a fundraising walk or event, or becoming involved as a volunteer. If there's a particular condition you're interested in benefitting, you can almost certainly find an organization that supports it. (If you need suggestions, please feel free to contact me). 

If anyone has a great mental health awareness resource, organization, or event that you'd love to share, please feel free to leave it in the comments. Thank you for helping support mental health awareness!

The Confidence Blog

I've read that (almost) all children are born loving things like art and music, and that it's only as we go through the influences and demands of society that those things taper off and are conditioned out of many of us. I feel it's a bit the same with self confidence. Most little kids have no idea of their strenghts and weaknesses. They don't care if you think they dance badly or sing out of tune. If you've ever been to a kids holiday concert or play, you know what I'm talking about (trust me, I was in them). But I think that as we go through life, we not only learn our skills and talents, our positive traits and those we might need work on, but we also learn what other people think of all of these things - and often they don't coincide. I also believe that some of us are better "built" to handle these inconsistencies, while others, including myself, let them affect us much more. The reasoning behind this, I couldn't begin to explain. I just know that some people seem able to let nothing shake them, while others let even the most obviously blatant un-truths deeply affect them.

In my case, I believe that my cyclothymia predisposes me to be less confident - it's a bit tough to be confident in myself on a whole when I can't be confident how my brain is going to react life on a daily, or even hourly, basis. I also know that I take in too much of the negative from others' thoughts and opinions. Instead of seeing them as such, I see them as fact, at least if they even remotely could have any truth to them. Over the years, I've let these things ruminate in my mind, and, especially during my down times, I let it knock me down until my belief that I can't do or be something becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

The inability for the brain to distinguish between what it's told and actual truth is the reason that tools such as visualization and affirmations are thought to work so well. While I love affirmations, I find that they can sometimes be a bit generic: "I am loved" is wonderful, but it doesn't target who one is loved by. "I am loved by my cat" is not the same as "I am loved by my spouse", and in all honesty, while I'm sure in a perfect world we should just be glad to be loved, one of these probably matters more than the other (note this is a hypothetical example, as I have neither a cat or a spouse). So I thought I'd take a twist on the more generic affirmation, and suggest a more customized one that "attacks" a few areas personal to ourselves.  I suggest taking three to 5 areas in which you particularly feel you lack confidence, especially those in which this lack of confidence is rooted in other people's negative opinions. Then, create a positive affirmation that directly negates this contrary opinion. Write it down and place it where you'll see it. Read it - out loud if you can - at least once a day.

To get you started, I thought I'd share a few of my own. I'll admit that this isn't easy for me. It's putting my "weaknesses", areas that I'm sensitive about, right out there for everyone to see. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

• I have the abilities, skills, and work ethic to have a successful, happy career that I love. 
• I am fun, and people enjoy my company and want to be around me. 
• I have the ability to relax and let things happen without becoming anxious or stressed. 
• I am a strong person who can overcome difficulties and obstacles.
• I deserve all of the positives in my life. 

I had to dig deep for these. These are not things that, if you asked me to rattle of my top qualities, I would say about myself. I would say "I'm a good person. I really care about others. I'm loyal and honest".  I wouldn't say "I'm great at being chill and not getting anxious." Because honestly, I wouldn't need anyone to laugh at me - I'd laugh at myself.  But I know that I have the ability to do this, somewhere deep down inside, and that's the way I wrote my affirmation.

If you were to create customized affirmations, what would they be? As always, feel free to share them in the comment section or a private message. If you'd like a little inspiration, or just a smile, here's a fun clip from the movie Cool Runnings to get you started.

What It's Really Like To Have (Hypo)Mania - Part 1

This blog was inspired by a post on another blog about what it's really like to have ADHD. Many of the symptoms and experiences described are similar to how I feel with hypomania, and I thought I was about due for a post to explain in plain words how it feels to have this condition.

If you are diagnosed with a mood cycling condition, such as cyclothymia or bipolar disorder, you've probably at one point or another heard someone describing another person as "bipolar" because their mood changed quickly or they were a little temperamental. You've probably also wanted to call them an ignorant SOB and tell them that they should get their facts straight before they start diagnosing people with mental illness. Ok, maybe that's just me that wants to do that. The point is, society seems to be ok with taking serious health conditions and brain disorders and using them to describe every day moods and activities, almost as a cliche. Quite honestly, this pisses me off.

So let me tell you what it's really like to be hypomanic, at least for me. You wake up with literally at least twenty things going through your head at once. You fervently make notes, set alarms and reminders, tell someone to remind you, tattoo it on your arm, to make sure that you don't forget. It could be anything from "don't forget to pick up milk" to "don't forget to pick up your loved one at the airport" and each one is, or feels, of equal importance and urgency. Why? Because if you don't pick up milk you won't be able to make that dish you planned to for the dinner gathering and everyone's expecting it and then you'll disappoint them and you hate to disappoint anyone because maybe this is just the tip of the iceberg and you'll be a disappointment the rest of your life. And the person at the airport? Well they're relying on you, and what if you forget, and they're standing there for hours, in the freezing rain, and they catch pneumonia. Can you imagine their fear and hurt and anger that you've forgotten them? They must be so cold (it doesn't matter that it's 60 degrees and sunny out), how awful! Then you put yourself in their shoes in this created scenario and make yourself feel even worse because now you're thinking of how you'd feel if that happened to you. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Now before I continue, let me point out - we are not just "glass half empty", negative, drama queens or kings. These scenarios truly, genuinely seem feasible, even likely, because the hypomanic brain is constantly on overdrive. Logically, I know it's not likely, but that doesn't matter. The "what ifs" are torturous. Think about it this way: if your boss at work were yelling at you that if you don't refill the coffee pot now, you'll be fired (and sounded serious about it), it probably wouldn't matter how ridiculous this seemed - you'd probably not want to chance getting fired and would move "coffee" to the top of your priority list.  Now, imagine this happening with everything that crosses your path - any task, anything anyone asks you to do, any thought that suggests a potential action. Not only do these things all seem to require serious attention, but they require it now. Prioritization takes a ridiculous amount of effort, and I often find myself double (or triple, quadruple) checking and doubting myself. Days when I'm hypomanic are truly exhausting, despite the extra energy one tends to have in this mood state.

What's particularly frustrating is that people don't understand. They tell you to just relax, chill out, calm down. They'll call you over-reactive, dramatic, hyper, annoying, and a whole host of other things. They think that you, for whatever reason, choose to be this way, and that if you just put your mind to it, you could change. Honestly, given what I just described above, who the hell would choose to feel this way? I can't even imagine.

Maybe, with a lot of practice, I could learn to stop and take a breath and say "logically, nobody is going to die or leave me or kick me out of the family if I don't get milk today, and no matter how urgent it feels, I have to remember that it's not". Maybe. With A LOT of practice. Maybe I need a buddy system, someone to seriously text and say "getting milk today isn't urgent right? Or is it? Please confirm this for me," just to make sure I'm accurately assessing this. I'm not sure. What I know is that every single day I work and I struggle to learn how to prioritize, chill out, "calm down" (my least two favorite words in the English language), but I don't feel that most people see this. They don't see all of the times that I don't react as I usually would, and they don't see the tremendous effort. They only see the times that this effort fails.

I hope this post offers a little insight into what my brain is like in hypomania. I'm not offering this up as an excuse, but simply as an explanation. It's my belief that the more we try to understand each other as people, the less conflict, confusion, and miscommunication we'll have with others, and even in my jumbled brain, this seems to make sense.

As the subject indicates, this is a part 1. In the next blog, I'm going to discuss what I call the "fixing" compulsion - the inability to walk away from or let go of issues or difficulties that is so prevalent in hypomania.